


In the Field

by Aithilin



Series: Phone Calls with Victor [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Spies & Secret Agents, Victor is a spy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 21:49:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1703735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Victor is perfectly happy to talk to Sherlock while at work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Field

"Just talk to me."

"Will…"

"It helps."

"Nothing helps when you’re like this, bee." Victor smiled, microphone clipped to his collar while his phone was secure in a pocket. "You just need sleep."

"I can’t sleep." He could picture Sherlock, pacing the bedroom, nearly pulling at his hair as his mind started to eat itself in frustration. Sherlock had taken a difficult case, Victor knew, he read about it that morning before he started in on his own work-- scandal and betrayals, and the police were only now getting involved. He could hear the flurry of movement as Sherlock threw himself to the bed— pout in his voice. "Talk to me."

"I’m busy, Will."

"Are you being shot at?"

"Not yet." This mission didn’t actually have that particular threat to it. It was a simple fetch request— pickpocket the mark, copy the information, replace it at the pick-up point with the fake. Simple. Mycroft always requested an easy mission for him before he went home. "But give it time."

"Then you can talk to me."

It helped that he was on the phone. There were tourists all over the Berlin park— most with phones out for pictures— and he fit in with the groups of young foreigners oblivious to the remnants of a Cold War moving around them. It helped, he supposed, that talking to Sherlock always put a silly, lovesick grin on his face. It was easy to be ‘distracted’ as he wandered his set route if he appeared to be a homesick tourist talking to a lover.

"Fine. What do you want to talk about?"

"Tell me your mission."

"Deduce it, Will." He stumbled past a handful of older journalists, apologizing in broken German— playing up a French accent to the mangled words as he held out his hands in a gesture of apology. The clumsy tourist too distracted to walk straight.

"French tourist."

"Yes."

"You were in Russia when we last spoke."

Victor chuckled as he moved closer to the mark. He took out his phone and joined a group of tourists, snapping bad photos as he moved through the square. He stopped when he was in reach of the mark, and started sending pictures— harmless ones: a statue, the arch, the graffiti. “Speak French, bee.”

"For god’s sake,Victor. I’m not—"

The phone dropped as Victor bumped into a well dressed man. “Pardon, Monsieur! Pardon!”

The man picked up the phone, the wire from the headphones and microphone hanging useless from where Victor clipped them to his leather jacket. He could hear Sherlock’s prim French coming from the speaker all the same— mock-confused phrases about the noise. Victor accepted the phone back and happily patted the man’s arm in gratitude. He slipped a cigarette case that wasn’t his own into a secure pocket as he plugged the headphones back in and secured the clip.

As he made his way to the next contact point, he couldn’t help but smile as Sherlock clearly let amusement creep into his tone. “Did I just help you commit an act of espionage?”

"Of course, Will." Victor stepped into an alley off the main roads to photograph the papers folded into the case. Taking the papers, he replaced them with the fakes already folded in his pocket, and tossed the case into the square again. From his position, he could see the mark’s handler stepping in to quickly retrieve the case, check the contents, and return it. "You were brilliant."

"Do I get to see what I helped you steal?"

"No codes for you this time. But I’ll bring you back a snow globe."

"Don’t you dare."

Victor grinned as he saw his own handler and the secure car. “Go to sleep, Will. I’ll be home soon.”


End file.
